In the last three months, she’d had two...interludes. Hidden in the shadows of a gay club that didn’t get that many gay women visiting, neither of the experiences had been at all satisfactory. She hadn’t been able to come—something held her back from really letting go. So now she’d pretty much given up on all that for a while. Instead, she was focused on doing this job as best she could, getting a reputation established here and building her experience for the future.

What she really wanted next was to get into one of Robbie Chapman’s clubs—biggest club owner in the north-west, and rumoured to be looking to set up another huge club in the city centre, for which he would need experienced staff. Working in one of his places, and being good at it, would set her up nicely for the future. But she wasn’t stupid. She hadn’t been in this game, or this city, nearly long enough to set her own place up just yet. No, a few more years of learning from the best, and then she’d be ready to make her move.

Raised voices came from the end of the bar, and she glanced up. One of the tossers was leaning across the bar with his finger in Chris’s face. She was one of her youngest—and best—barwomen. Mandy reached for the small radio attached to her waist and thumbed the mike.

“Pete, meet me at the main bar, please.”

Pete gave an affirmative response as she moved down to the trouble spot.

Putting a hand gently on Chris’s shoulder, she stepped past her to face the angry man across the bar.

“Good evening, sir, what seems to be the trouble?”

His eyes, glazed from a clear case of overconsumption of alcohol, moved from staring at Chris to staring at Mandy. He took the time to leeringly look her up and down, and she resisted the urge to shudder. God, what a fucking snake.

“The trouble,” he started, his voice slurred, “is that your bitch here won’t serve me anymore.”

“I’ll ask you to refrain from abusing my staff, sir,” said Mandy in her firm but hey-let’s-all-just-take-it-easy voice that she reserved for occasions such as this. She held up a hand to him when he made to speak again and turned to Chris.

“Why did you refuse to serve the gentleman?” She hoped Chris could read enough in Mandy’s eyes and face to know that this wasn’t a telling-off. Chris had quite rightly refused to serve him.

“I’m afraid the gentleman used some abusive language when placing his order, and I wasn’t comfortable with that.”

“Stupid fucking cunt bitch!” His voice was almost a scream. Clearly, this was a man used to getting his own way, and he definitely didn’t like being told no.

Before Mandy needed to respond, Pete was there.